


Power // Station

by Phrenotobe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Helmsman, Quadrant Confusion, amputation mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrenotobe/pseuds/Phrenotobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not Kanaya Maryam's first time inside a helmsman's control pod block, but it is her first time in one of the Merry Murderess' class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power // Station

**Author's Note:**

  * For [4eeldrive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/4eeldrive/gifts).



It is not Kanaya Maryam's first time inside a helmsman's control pod block, but it is her first time in one of the Merry Murderess' class. Kanaya has no idea why she was led to believe it would be anything like upscale from the previous ones she'd been assigned to. The air has been left to go almost miasmic, the warmth and wetness from the biowires way off-track and keeping everything cloyingly humid. Kanaya begins to feel sweat bead on her forehead and the back of her neck, a sheen of moisture clinging to the angles of her knuckles.   
It's fairly noisy, too, air vents struggling with particles and damp.   
Aradia is slung low in her carriage, head pointed down with what sounds like obstructed breathing, a ship-prow figure set askew toward the ground. Kanaya lets out a click of irritation, ready to use her muscle to forceably put everything back in the proper place, but hears a thin cricket peep in reply from the helmstroll herself.   
So she's conscious of this, too.   
Kanaya's has been in the business for a couple of sweeps. She's seen warped bodies aplenty and the people that bear them, who still chatter once they're comfortable and don't always use the handy screens nearby to hold a conversation. They're still breathing and talking and cursing and living, held down by the empire and locked into place, but certainly not giving up. Aradia doesn't seem that way, but with time - and effort, and things that should already be in place - she'll get better. Maybe even enough to talk.  
"Hello," Kanaya starts, because she's been still long enough and knows that even fogged-up cameras can still grab an image, "Can you hear me? I'm your new interface assistant."   
Aradia chirps again, and Kanaya takes a knee to get on her level. She uses a cautious forefinger to separate the humidity-coiled hair over her face into two equal halves, aware that she could be bitten, and that it's happened more than once.   
"Hey," Aradia says, in a hot rush of breath over Kanaya's hand.   
"Hello," Kanaya says, "This might seem a strange question, but are you okay?"   
Aradia huffs what could be a laugh, if she had the lung capacity to do it.  
"Been better," she says.   
Kanaya nods, her mouth pulling up into half a smile. She slips her hands to Aradia's nape, checks the contacts by feel, and runs a thumb over the scar that is around every cranial interface she's ever looked over. It is never not present.   
"When was the last time somebody talked to you?" Kanaya says, casual as she can make it - not that she is in her nature very casual at all, but the attempt is what counts.   
"About a minute ago," Aradia says.   
The amount that pun deserved some indication of absolute joke mastery on Aradia's part is palpable.  
"Hah," Kanaya manages instead, "Very good."  
"Thanks," Aradia says, "I think I remember you." 

\----

The second day, Kanaya has chased down a small team of mechanics - without too many threats, as a matriarchal attitude usually encourages people to do what you want, so long as the colours don't match.   
Back in the helmsblock, the air is still hot, but the grille on the airflow has been removed for service and the rusting metal beginning to peel away from the underlying carapaces are now being removed and re-set. Aradia's carriage is now upward and back at an angle to avoid more strain, and she's starting to giggle now that everything is a little easier and a little brighter.  
"You missed a bit," Aradia calls after a technician's retreating back. She laughs quietly, and then begins to cough. Kanaya isn't that slow to catch on, and comes over with an official sort of pap for Aradia's cheek, before raising a hydration pack in the other hand.  
"You sound like you need some water," she says, as Aradia shakes her head to clear it.   
"You better not be trying to be pale at me," she says.  
"No," Kanaya says, "Would you like anything else?"  
"I'm still not sure you're not trying to get up to some kind of weird quadrant thing, but okay." Aradia says.   
Kanaya shrugs and pulls her caegar fold out of her pocket, lifting a picture to Aradia's eye-level.   
"My moirail," she says, flipping it around in her hand to put it back in her pocket. She fumbles the motion, and it unfolds six more panels as it tumbles to the floor.   
"That wasn't what I intended," she says, picking it up with an embarrassed flush.   
"Well now I believe you a little bit about both of those things," Aradia says magnanimously.

The entire ship needs an overhaul. It’s clear from how much needs replacing that the troll previously in charge had no idea of how to effectively control a ship of this size. Their replacement - or rather, replacements - are a pair of high-ranking officers that will presumably duel for superiority once things have settled and the new influx of homeworld recruits are trained up. For now, they’re trusting Kanaya to do her best with the helmsblock she’s in charge of, but current speeds are below what they should be and she has the feeling they will soon be making demands.

\----

Treating Aradia’s needs include honesty, and though there are means to make that happen, it still puts Kanaya on the back foot when she offers her opinions freely. Things begin to get altered, and systems once left on standby begin to start working again. it makes things a little quieter, if only because she’s focused on control and extending her mental feelers back into that unknown space. 

“I need a holiday,” Aradia sighs, and three little ghosts pop up on a display, only to melt cartoonishly down to the bottom of the panel.  
Kanaya nods, not noticing, and finishes fiddling about with a graph calculator and a page of Aradia’s biosign test results.  
“You’re doing well I think,” she says, “This line here tells me that you got halfway over to where you could have been if you had not been left back where this other number is.“  
“I don’t understand that at all but thanks anyway,” Aradia says, “If it says I’m okay then I guess I am too.”

Orders come from above to get things moving faster, and warily, Kanaya settles in to prepare things for a hardware reset despite her misgivings. It goes smoothly - Aradia has had ample time to back things up - but there’s still not optimum power output. 

“I think they’ll ask me to re-install your navigation systems.” Kanaya says, “And I don’t want to.”   
Aradia grins, though it doesn’t look mirthful.  
“Inside my brain again?” she asks.   
Kanaya nods, and turns away. 

\----

Seven days or so later and the drawn lines of Kanaya's face match up with the permanent creases under Aradia’s eyes.  
"I don't know why this solution it isn't working like the manual states," she says softly, to Aradia and just to her, "It just won't."  
"Have you tried turning me off and then back on again?" Aradia says brightly, "It doesn't matter about that technical stuff you're worrying about, I was never really tall even when I had feet."   
"I can't switch you off like a machine," Kanaya says, "you're too important."   
"Wow, that's so sweet of you! But you have to get rid of the corrupted data somehow. The wires in my brain will keep me alive, right?"  
“I’m here to protect your body,” Kanaya grumps, “The systems can be replaced.”  
Aradia blows a raspberry, wriggling around for an inch or two of extra give and lifting her chin up to fix Kanaya in her sights.  
“I only know this stuff because they make sure it’s in here, but those data containers are the size of a hoofbeast and can hold on while I’m doing whatever a reprogram state troll does. I’m sure that brains are way stronger than people guess! I mean, I’m moving an entire ship with mine.”   
She grins and sticks her tongue out at Kanaya playfully.  
“Wow,” Kanaya says, “Still no.”  
Just do it! You’ll be doing me a favour.”   
“It’s not a favour.”   
Aradia rolls her eyes and a control panel nearby begins to insistently beep.   
“Is that you?” Kanaya asks.   
Aradia purses her lips and stays obstinately silent. Another control panel begins to chime.   
“I suppose that is not you either,” Kanaya states flatly.   
She turns to leave, and as she stalks down the corridor a panel on the bulkhead begins to decorate with a chattering skull.   
Kanaya comes back at maintenance time, and though she doesn’t stop frowning, she fulfils her duties without calling attention to the six jangling noises and repeated animation of a hoofbeast falling on a small group of trolls. 

\---- 

Kanaya spends the next week with a constant and mildly disconcerting hum that feels like it is vibrating lightly through her horns, and goes about her business as well as she can.   
“I won’t do it,” she warns.   
“Ooh, you’re no fun,” Aradia says, “I might learn something if you do!”   
“Like what?”  
Aradia hums smugly into the audio pickup.  
“Well, I could try getting some sleep. I haven’t had true sleep in sweeps! There’s always something they want to use my brain parts as a processor for.”   
“I’ll get you your sleep if I get mine,” Kanaya mumbles darkly.   
The alarms this time have at least cut down to four. 

\----

In the end, it’s taken out of Kanaya’s hands. The chief engineer makes her stay - officially just to make her look out for abnormal biosigns, but there’s an edge of punishment to it, as clearly if Kanaya had been capable she would have done it herself without resorting to circumnavigated solutions like she’d been trying.   
With a dozen loud pops the wires are unplugged and Aradia’s eyes cross for a few seconds before they close, which stops her from seeing Kanaya biting her own knuckles with worry.   
“Not too difficult,” the engineer says, “Life signs stable?”   
Kanaya has to shove down hard on her sarcasm. It’s readable on at least three pieces of equipment - one of them visible to the engineer, no less.  
“All clear,” Kanaya says. The brain pattern is unnervingly blank, but that is what happens when you remove all the plugs that look at it.   
The engineer retrieves a small box from their overalls, sticking a universal hookup nodule in one end and attaching it to Aradia via one of the ports at her nape.   
“Wait here while it installs and then put the link plugs back in,” the troll commands, and Kanaya nods, before she folds out a seat from the wall.

\----

Six hours later and Aradia hasn’t really moved. Kanaya has gone from the wall seat to the floor by Aradia’s station. There’s a monitor at eye level across the room and she watches it glumly.   
The motion of Aradia’s chest as she breathes is reassuring, but not exceptionally riveting, the progress bar similarly so. A troll comes in with food and Kanaya thanks them, gnawing on the grubloaf absently.   
Once the engineer is gone, she puts her head into her hands. 

it’s a slow tread through the following days. Food trays pile up by the door, a minimum of attention paid to kanaya’s own personal grooming as she jogs back to the helmsblock with damp hair. She uses the reflection of a screen to put her lipstick on, dabs the excess off, and turns her head to check the bar’s progress across the screen. It lingers unhelpfully at eighty percent.   
Kanaya ambles over to Aradia’s slumbering form and stares at it, carefully rearranging her hair and stuffing her hands into her pockets.  
“I hope you aren’t dead,” she says, at a loss for something sentimental to say.

Kanaya is half-asleep by the time the progress bar bleeps.   
She unplugs the box and fits the connectors back in, one by one and careful as she does. She looks for motion in Aradia’s face but finds none, puts fingers around the plugs to test that they’re firm and stable before pulling her torso forward to look at the rest of the connections. 

The row down her spine get lightly adjusted, and Kanaya trips a switch before taking out two of the connectors at Aradia’s nape, frowning as she puts her back into her cradle.   
“Can you hear me?” she says, “I’m your interface assistant.”   
She removes another connector, tipping her head to watch Aradia for another moment. Aradia sighs shallowly, and Kanaya turns around to the machinery to press a few buttons and pull up a diagram. She saves a glare for the status bar, and frowns at the map. 

Kanaya goes back to Aradia, putting an arm around her and pulling her gently forward to re-arrange things one more time.  
“Wake up,” she says, forehead to forehead, horns close enough to almost touch, “You’ve had your sleep.”  
The reply is not astounding, but at least it’s there.  
“Are you hugging me,” Aradia says, “This is pretty uncomfortable when my spine has bits in it.”   
“No,” Kanaya says, “But could you tell me your serial number please.”  
Aradia hums for a moment before rattling the sequence off.   
“At least, I think that’s it. I don’t keep boring stuff in my actual brain any more.”  
Kanaya pulls a face.  
“At least you have it right,” she says, “Are you ready to link to the rest of the ship yet?”  
Aradia’s head turns to look around.  
“I could probably do that,” she says, “I hope you weren’t worried or anything, I was fine.”  
“I wasn’t,” Kanaya lies.

A short amount of fiddling with wires later, Aradia giggles into Kanaya's collar struts when she realizes that the link has actually happened but Kanaya still hasn't let go.  
"Come on," she says, an affectionate nudge with her forehead and a catlike tip of the head to put her cheek on Kanaya's.   
"Is everything okay?" Kanaya says, unwilling to stand just yet.  
"Yes," Aradia says, and then gives Kanaya’s forehead a firm yet loving bump, "you nerd."


End file.
